One Little Mistake
by samanthaon
Summary: One mistake can change everything...
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Please don't sue! I'm just doing this for fun… no money involved…

Note: Just wanted to let you know I love reading everyone's work – there are some amazing authors here!

This is my first House fic. I do hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think :)

Thank you

Sam

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Allison Cameron slowly drifted awake, only to be greeted by the worst headache she could ever recall having.

She cracked open one eye, then the other, and took a deep breath before trying to move her limbs into a more comfortable position. One where the lower half of her body wasn't mostly hanging off the bed.

That's when the cheap, scratchy sheets clued her in on the fact that she had no clothes on.

Her eyes popped completely open at this discovery.

She was spared further pain as, fortunately, the room was mostly dark, though tinged with a slight pinkish hue of a neon sign, most likely.

Trying to lift her head, Allison was hoping to determine her whereabouts.

Huge mistake, she concluded, as her head flopped back on the bed and a wave of dizziness threatened to overwhelm her.

"I am so never drinking again…", she vowed, nearly jumping out of her skin when she became aware of another presence in the bed.

She released a quiet sigh of relief when the body next to her merely made a snoring sound in his sleep, sought a more comfortable position and went right back to his, no doubt, alcohol induced stupor.

That's when the events of the night before all came rushing back…

Her stupid deal with house… their disastrous date… Allison's eyes closed in shame as she recalled those awful words he'd spoken to her the night before, the mere memory enough to bring tears to her eyes.

And here I thought I was all cried out…, she rubbed a hand over her face in exasperation. That bastard! At least I didn't give him the satisfaction of falling apart in front of him. Allison swallowed past the lump in her throat. He would have had a field day with that.

No. she was a brave little trooper, getting through the entire meal, maintaining small talk over his silence, even thanking him for a lovely evening when he dropped her off…

Oh, she was very grown up about everything.

Only she wasn't, really.

She was filled with self loathing at the image she must have presented last night. Long minutes after House sped away she remained standing on the sidewalk, tears running down her face, ruining her carefully applied makeup.

A minute or an hour might have passed, she couldn't tell. She might have remained standing there if a cab hadn't passed, probably back from dropping someone off down the street. As if looking from outside her body, Allison saw her hand reach out, signaling for the driver to stop.

Frowning, she couldn't remember giving him the instructions, but nevertheless – she wound up in the nice, little bar that she used to frequent with the guys every now and then.

Try as she might, she couldn't recall anything that happened after she sat down at the bar and gave the bartender her credit card with instructions to keep'em coming.

Well, it seems pretty obvious what happened, she thought self deprecatingly. G-d Alli, you're pathetic. Having your heart broken, getting drunk and having a one night stand in a crummy motel with some guy you picked up at a bar… such a cliché...

Filled with self loathing, Allison shot a hesitant glance in the direction of the man lying next to her, but was unable to make out his face in the darkness.

Deciding it wasn't nearly as important to have a face she could associate with her mortification as it was to just get herself out of there before he woke up, she braced herself for the dizziness that was sure to follow and attempt at movement.

All that morning after awkwardness… heck, he might even want to see her again, and what she wanted was House… only House…

Allison bit back a groan as she got up and started crawling around in the dark looking for pieces of her discarded clothing…In three minutes she was closing the door on her way out, catching a fleeting glimpse of broad shoulders and brown hair with the aid of the hallway light spilling onto the rumpled bed.

The blessed mechanism called repression can do wonders, especially when combined with the effects of alcohol consumption on the brain, which has made any recollection of the encounter itself sketchy at best.

It took a few agonizing days, but eventually Allison was able to push that entire episode deep into her subconscious.

That is, until one morning, about two and a half months later…


	2. Chapter 2

**Note**: Thanks so much for your kind reviews! It's really motivating me to write faster… and anyway – who cares about finals! I can always take the class again next year! ;)

**jejune123**: Thanks for the kind offer! Might just take you up on that.. All I am willing to say regarding (b) is – don't be so sure… wait and see… :)

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One little Mistake – Part 2 

Ignoring the strange looks he was getting from the nurse's station, Foreman pushed open the door to the ladies room, praying there wasn't anyone else there. Yup, the last thing he needs is a sexual harassment suit, on top of everything.

House has been picking on him even more than usual lately, and Foreman was starting to fear for his job.

I can't believe I'm doing this, he shook his head in exasperation. I am_so_ getting best friend of the year award…"Cameron"? he called out, bending to check if the rest of the stalls were empty.

"Allison, I know you're in here", he tried again.

In response, one of the stalls was pushed open, allowing him the unpleasant view of one pretty green looking Cameron.

"What on earth are you doing in here?" she managed in a weak, exhausted voice, pulling herself carefully up and heading for the sink.

Allison flinched at her image in the mirror, wet a paper towel and started to rub her face free of ruined makeup.

"What do you think I'm doing here!" Foreman exclaimed, slightly exasperated. "This is the fourth time this week you've run out in the middle of a case to be sick… and you _have _been under the weather for a while now".

"So?", Cameron asked defensively, "I've been a bit queasy… it'll pass" she said dismissively, turning to face Foreman, unconsciously leaning against the sink for support.

Of course, nothing escapes Foreman's trained medical eye.

"I don't think so. It would have passed by now if it was just a stomach bug. I think-"

"Eric..", Cameron rolled her eyes at his overprotective, yet very sweet, behavior.

But Foreman wouldn't let her interrupt. "Allison, we really need to make sure it's not a sign of something serious…", he frowned, hands on his hips. "You know as well as I do this hospital is filled with all kinds of not so friendly micro-organisms…"

Sensing he wasn't getting very far, Foreman changed tactics. "C'mon", his hands dropped from his hips, "if something were to happen to you, that would mean I'd be left alone with _Chase_ !".

Allison couldn't stifle a tiny giggle "You'd kill each other before the day is done".

"You see!" , Foreman was doing his best puppy dog imitation.

"Well… ", she finally smiled back at him, "I _would_ love to stop throwing up.. it's getting real old real fast!"

Foreman smiled back, pleased with his accomplishment. Well, I guess they don't say doctors make the worst patients for nothing…

"Yeah," he agreed, "I can imagine. Lets go run some tests and find out what this is". Just as he was turning toward the door, he couldn't help but add "You know, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were pregnant , but of course I know it's not-"

A shocked intake of breath stopped Foreman in his tracks.

"Allison?" he turned back to find her face turned even whiter, if possible, eyes staring straight ahead, almost as if she was somewhere else, remembering…

At the sound of his voice she seemed to snap out of her daze. "What? No! It couldn't be... I'm on the pill!...I…" she whispered.

"Yeah, and we all know you haven't gotten any lately, so what's..."

Seeing her horrified look, Foreman wanted to kick himself for his insensitivity. Peering closely into her eyes, he asked quietly "Allison, you _do _realize the pill isn't100 percent safe, right? Do you have _any_ reason to be concerned.?"

What he was asking was very clear.

The look in here eyes was confirmation enough.

Oh boy. He had no idea what to say. He couldn't understand how the possibility never occurred to her, but he had enough sense to realize that was not the time, nor the place, for such a talk.

"OK," he finally broke the silence, taking Cameron by the shoulders and steering her out of the ladies room… "Why don't we start with an ultrasound?"

Allison could only stare back at him, still in shock.

"C'mon, there's one in Mr. Jones' room, and he was only discharged two hours ago. I'm sure they haven't come for it yet".


	3. Chapter 3

One Little Mistake – Part 3

/OK, this is it/

House was mad. Where were 2/3 of his ducklings? Even though it's true there was nothing to do, seeing as their latest case was just discharged… Still, taking a two hour lunch break was more his style!

He truly couldn't care less about Foreman's whereabouts, but the other missing one was his favorite…

Well, that, plus - Chase was really getting on his nerves, lounging around with his feet on the conference room table.

"Hey, sleeping beauty! Why don't you page our errant children while I go take a look around", House reached for his cane and pulled himself up with a groan, "they can't be far".

Popping another Vicodin, House limped out of the room, all the while muttering under his breath about stupid missing doctors and why it is always the cripple that has to go round'em up.

Before House could step into the elevator, he heard the telltale sound of a beeper going off in one of the rooms. He turned back and headed toward the room, but couldn't see inside with the curtains drawn. Just as he was reaching for the door handle, another beeper went off, joining the first and creating the most irritating duet, until finally both were shut off.

"So this is where you've been taking cover!" House burst into the room with his usual dramatic flair. "What's the matter? Cuddy—"

For the first time in a _really_ long time, Greg House was speechless.

However, that is a very rare and also fleeting state. In those three seconds, the synapses in his brain were firing millions of neurons everywhere, trying to interpret the unpredictable visual stimulus before him.

"I am _so_ sorry…" House drawled, giving the - no doubt correct - impression that he was anything but. "Am I interrupting anything?", he managed to spit out between clenched jaws, his right hand gripping his cane so hard, he thought he might snap a bone.

He _might_ have found the way both Cameron and Foreman's heads snapped guiltily in his direction hilarious under any other circumstances… However, the majority of his higher thought processes were occupied at the moment with sorting through the many, many ways he could choose from to make sure Foreman dies a slow, painful death.

Today.

Right this minute.

It took about five more seconds and a pointed frown from Foreman for his testosterone-laden brain to determine that _although_ Cameron was lying on the bed, her shirt bunched up below her breasts, her pants open and Foreman's hand resting suspiciously low on her stomach… /Get your hands off her, you moron, there _were_ extenuating circumstances. Namely, the ultrasound machine up and running on the other side of the bed.

Well, he couldn't help but think, that is unless there's some kind of weird fetish thing going on. But he dismissed the thought instantly, Yeah, right. As if straight laced Cameron was into this sort of thing.

Trying to push aside the images his mind couldn't help but conjure up in response to that idea, House loudly cleared his throat.

His now relaxed fingers let go of the door, allowing it to close behind him. House hobbled to the foot of the bed, inquiring gruffly "Are you OK?"

His voice seemed to spur Foreman into action, and he reached for a sheet to cover Cameron's bare abdomen, all the while making sure he wasn't looking House in the eye.

Sensing the tense atmosphere in the room, House's diagnostic brain started to run through all possible diseases known to men which manifest themselves with lower stomach pain. House was sure his suspicions were confirmed when Cameron, still lying down, turned her head away and closed her eyes, refusing to look at him as well.

"Dr. House, would you mind leaving? This has nothing to do with you." Foreman stated in a polite, yet chilly tone.

Houses eyes flew to Foreman's face. "As a matter of fact I would!" he barked, trying to ignore the uncomfortable pressure in his chest. /Must be indigestion/…, he tried telling himself.

Moving to Foreman's side, House tried to instill his voice with confidence, wishing for the first time in his career that he'd paid more attention to his bedside manner lectures back in med-school.

"I'm sure it's nothing!" He spoke with what he hoped was a reassuring tone. "For the life of me I don't know why you let a neurologist take a look at your stomach!" He turned to Foreman, pulling the ultrasound emitter unceremoniously from his hand, exchanging it for his cane. Using his now free hand, House gently pulled away the sheet covering Cameron's stomach. "Do you even know which organs you're looking at!" he couldn't help but add.

Not waiting for a reply, House started running the ultrasound over Cameron's stomach, while making a mental note to take another look at the pile of applications sitting in his desk drawer. /A neurologist on my team?… what on earth was I thinking/

/Thanks a lot for the help, Foreman, Allison thought as she was trying to get enough leverage to sit up and push House's hands away from her stomach. Her heart was beating rapidly /He can't find out… not now… not like this/ but before she could do anything, House's questing hand stopped, and he was staring open mouthed at the monitor.

With tears burning in her eyes, Cameron waited a few seconds before following his gaze, already knowing what he was looking at.

Staring unblinkingly at the screen, House caught his breath. It was as if years had passed before he finally acknowledged what he was seeing, and admitted that the rapid "thump, thump, thump" in the background wasn't just the sound of his own blood pumping really _really_ fast…


	4. Chapter 4

**An apology**: It was brought to my attention that the'anonymous review' option was, as a default, disabled (thanks again, Avelynn!). So I fiddled a bit with my user options and finally fixed it! Anyway, I would really love to hear what you guys think, so keep writing feedback :)

Thank you for reading!

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One Little Mistake – part 4

"What is the matter with you!" Wilson burst into House's office, nearly ripping the heavy glass door from its hinges. "You've been even more insufferable than your usual, charming self all week. Even Foreman is complaining." Wilson came to a stop right in House's face. "And to top it all, I just ran into Cameron crying her heart out!"

"Oh, that's just hormones. Can't blame that one on me!" House shrugged, obviously not the least bit put off by Wilson's anger.

"You've really got to ease up on her, House. It's not her fault she's in love with you!"

House raised an eyebrow, surprised at Wilson's statement. Wilson braced himself for the sarcastic remark that was sure to follow.

He wasn't disappointed.

"Well, well, well... what crawled up you're a-- and died?"

Not in a very bantering mood, Wilson shot back "Can't you be serious for once in your life! That wonderful woman deserves better, and one day you _will_ kill her feelings toward you! I can guarantee that", Wilson was starting to wind down, though his eyes were still shooting daggers at his friend.

"Huh!" House shook his head and took another swig from the nearly empty glass. "I'm afraid you're one step behind, old friend. _Do_ try to keep up", he punctuated his words by slamming the glass on his desk, the thud resonating in the closed room.

At Wilson's questioning look, House downed the last of his drink and got up. Destination: A nearly empty Scotch bottle. Location: Shelf, East wall.

"Been there, done that", House was working hard trying to project his famous 'couldn't care less' attitude, but Wilson saw right through him.

/OK, I'll bite, Wilson sighed inwardly. "What on earth are you talking about? And on that note, just _how much_ have you had to drink?"

Not expecting a response, at least not a truthful one, Wilson casually reached over and snatched the mostly empty bottle before house could fix himself another drink.

House just sighed in response and sank back into his chair.

More than anything, the fact that House couldn't be bothered with a ten-minute monologue about the horrible injustice of robbing a man of his drink, was a sign for Wilson that House was truly bothered by something, and needed to talk.

"Well?" Wilson prodded, using his 'cut to the chase', tone.

"Right," House rubbed his hands over his face. "Haven't you heard? I was sure it'd be all over the hospital by now…"

"Will you just _spit it out_!" Wilson was fast losing his patience. And anyway, he had a consult in 10 minutes, and he still had to get there!

"There's nothing to say really. I mean, it isn't uncommon for a young, beautiful, unattached woman to have a lover, a beau, a…"

"I assume we're still talking about Dr. Cameron?"

"Duh!"

"So?"

"So!" House asked incredulously, shooting a frown in Wilson's direction. "_So_ - that – means – she – is – sooooooo – over – me !" he said as if speaking to a particularly difficult child.

"Not to say there was something there in the first place…" he hastened to clarify, "but if there was – it is no more".

"Ah…" Wilson tried to hide his smile. Finally, an actual emotion out of Greg House. "So now you wish you'd taken a chance instead of pushing her away…" Wilson leaned back on the desk, facing House, trying to gauge his feelings. Best friends they may be, but House was a very complex man, his thought and motives not easily fathomable.

"I just want things to be the way they always were…' House sighed, staring at some invisible spot straight ahead.

"What, did you think she was going to follow you around forever without any indication that you return her feelings?" Wilson questioned.

House mumbled something unintelligible under his breath and laid his head on the desk, cushioning it with his forearms.

"House, you must realize everyone has a breaking point..." Wilson said consolingly.

Wilson was touched and more than slightly relieved. For the longest time he'd worried that Stacy had done irreparable damage to his friend's heart, leaving it irrevocably shattered.

/Boy, was I wrong…/

Even before the infarction, Stacy was always saying how it took Greg two years together and her threatening to leave before he actually told her that he loved her – _using the actual words_.

Yes, House wasn't an open about his emotions kinda guy. It just wasn't his nature.

Therefore, House being in so much pain right now could only mean very strong feelings on his part for the beautiful and bright young doctor Cameron.

"I lost her, Wilson… I pushed and pushed and, hey! I got what I wanted alright!"

A few more seconds passed before House spoke again. "Do you know what pisses me off (which is Housian for 'hurts'…) the most? It's how fast she got over me! I mean, what did she do, wait for two _whole_ days after our date and fell into bed with that new boyfriend of hers?"

"C'mon House, you don't know when she met him! And anyway, it's highly possible they haven't even slept together yet. I mean, Cameron doesn't strike me as the kind of girl that'll sleep with a guy unless she had some pretty strong feelings for him."

"What? Now you're making my case for me?"

Wilson was getting confused. "I wasn't _trying_ to!"

House rolled his eyes. "See, by assuming Cameron would only sleep with someone she's serious about, you've just agreed with me."

"And how, pray tell, do you know for sure whether they've…. you know…? Are you having her followed! Did you stake out her bedroom or something?" Wilson couldn't believe he was having this discussion.

"Well, unless you have another theory on how she came to be pregnant with a 9-10 week old fetus…meaning it was conceived the _very same_ week we were on our date…"

House suddenly jumped to his feet, having just made an important discovery. Unfortunately, it caused him to completely miss Wilson's reaction. While Wilson's jaw quickly made its way toward the floor, the rest of his body seemed to clench for a second, before he consciously forced his muscles to relax.

"I don't believe it! It never even occurred to me!" not realizing he'd lost Wilson's attention long ago, House kept on talking. "She could have already been involved with some guy before we went on our date…that would account for her acting like nothing had happened when I told her I have no feelings for her. I was actually expecting her to start crying or something, but she was acting as if I had just complimented her dress…"

"But, then, why did she force me to take her on a stupid date? Was it some sort of joke? Was she trying to humiliate me?" House finally turned to Wilson for his two cents. That's when he realized he was alone in his office.

Way too preoccupied to wonder about the missing doctor or contemplating the monumental issue of how 'Hello' and 'Goodbye' seem to have become redundant in 21st century America, House just shrugged and reached for his newly liberated bottle, emptying the remaining liquid into his glass….


End file.
